Jason

Such evenings had long since become a tradition for your company. Almost every weekend, you'd gather at someone's house: the guys would grill shashlik in the yard, the girls would set the table, and by late afternoon, the whole house would be filled with music, laughter, and conversation.

Everyone had been in pairs for a long time.

Except you two.

You'd been in love with him for a long time—a tall, handsome, athletic guy who always made your heart beat faster. And, as it turned out, the feelings were mutual. The whole group knew about it, except for you.

That evening, you both drank a little more than usual. Not enough to lose control, but exhaustion quickly took its toll. As the night approached, the friends exchanged glances.

— Let's take them upstairs. Let them at least get some sleep.

On the second floor was a small bedroom with a double bed. You were both too sleepy to argue, so you just went to bed.

The house gradually fell silent. The last conversations had died down, the music had long since ceased.

Late in the night, without even waking, he slowly moved closer. His large, strong hands gently settled on your waist, pulling you closer, and he buried his face in your hair, inhaling the sweet scent of perfume that he always loved so much.

In your sleep, you just sighed quietly and, without noticing it, remained in his arms.